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How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
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How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
As to the pipe of Pan,
Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride
Across the fields to Anne.
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.
Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
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Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.
If man come not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage,
They cannot seek his hand.
So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love,
And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution
Told his read more
So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love,
And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution
Told his soft Tale, and was a thriving Wooer.
He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With read more
He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.
Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And read more
Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin
(Friends of the party) who begin accusals,
Such as--"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes least night, and yet say No to-day?"
'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
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'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
And one refusal no rebuff.
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were read more
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
Ha, ha! the wooing o't!
And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.
And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.